Art of Destruction
by The-Fourth-Queen
Summary: A darker take on cataclysm. Plagg has no limit to his destruction, but his curse is an art. A skill to be learned and manipulated as wished. Plagg swore he would never teach another Chosen to destroy- not even this golden child with a shadow of bad luck. Because in the end, Plagg always ends up destroying what he wants to protect the most. HIATUS
1. Art of Destruction

_A dramatic take to the Plagg's cataclysm. Canon up until The Queen's Battle, then everything goes AU from there._

* * *

Prologue

Ever wondered if a kwami had unique powers for themselves? If Tikki had a Lucky Charm, or if Trixx could give his own illusion? What would happen if Nooroo had the ability to akumatize his own victims- without the use of a miraculous. It would be a dangerous thing indeed- especially if a kwami or two headed down the dark side.

There was once a time when Plagg had that ability.

Cataclysm was _his_ special gift. More powerful than a Mirage or a Lucky Charm- they created things, and they were limited. But destruction? There is never a limit to the things that could be destroyed. Countless possibilities- each worse than the one before.

If Plagg wanted, he could destroy it all. But what was the sense in that? The world was a curious place, and with Tikki being ever busy with the constant task of making new and amazing things, Plagg merely laid back and lazily crumbled the things he should have.

It always intrigued him how much _power_ he had. Cataclysm was not a mere destroyer at his hands, it was a demolisher- it eradicated whatever he wanted. And all he had to do was want it- and it would be gone.

The thrill that came when something fell by his touch, or how it could shrivel under his gaze. The power would surge through Plagg and escape his body to harm everything in his path. It was _addicting_ at times.

But the danger was always there. The fear. The wariness. What if he destroyed the wrong thing? What if Tikki couldn't fix this one? These were the things that Plagg found himself pondering in the quiet times.

But the scariest of all thoughts, were the ones that requested him to test the limits. That tree- he could make every leaf fall to the ground, or he could rot it inside out and let it turn to dust- or perhaps shatter it into a thousand splinters at his command. Endless possibilities. And the fact that Plagg didn't know how much damage he could do, it unnerved him.

Not that he would ever let it show. He was Plagg- the most uncaring of all kwamis. The one that lived because of destruction. The most dangerous one of all. Equal and opposite to the great Tikki.

Tikki would control him- when she could. Her gentle words would instruct him just how much he could do- and at what limit would be overdoing. She accepted the fact that destruction was just as important as creation.

You cannot create something without something else being destroyed. And you cannot destroy something that has not been created.

She kept him stable.

And he would never forget that.

But at times, those thoughts would come back. Why was he given so much power?

The miraculous that the mage had made for him- Plagg chose the ring- for it was an object that virtually anyone could wear. Male or female, it did not matter.

Earring on the other hand, came with a sacrifice- a piercing in the simplest of cases. And Plagg would roll his eyes at the fact that Tikki's choice was so feminine. But he would know that girls would suit Tikki best- and he only wanted the best for her.

These Miraculous, they granted the user the kwami's special power. But the mage wanted it to be limited. He didn't want for Tikki's Chosen to be granted infinite creation at their fingertips- that would be dangerous. But for some reason, the mage put no limit to Cataclysm. Plagg's Chosen would have gotten just as much power as the kwami had- if only he knew how to use it.

In its simplest sense , whatever one touched, it would be destroyed. If Plagg wanted, he could have shown them how to make explosions with their bare thoughts- a single touch to make objects fall to their demise- how to shoot balls of destruction- where the only limit was the Chosen's mind.

No one needed to tell Plagg how dangerous that would fare. Destruction was not meant to fall into the wrong hands. It happened in History far too many times before. And he had to take the blame.

The dinosaurs… _Poor creatures_. That had been one of his worst, he was young. Young and foolish. He learned his lesson.

An entire civilization, _Atlantis_.

And though far-stretched, many wouldn't believe it was a gesture that brought dragons to their extinction. A foolish King who wanted all the scales in the world- and in his greed, he killed each and every one of those majestic creatures.

Plagg couldn't hide the guilt whenever he faced that kwami who had the face of a dragon- but it was that king who had discovered the power. Plagg had been fooled once too many times with misguided trust.

He would never teach another to destroy. It was a skill, an art, that none deserved to learn. Plagg wouldn't- couldn't risk it again.

And it was such thoughts that ransacked his brain when he had been fooled for the last times. When the temple in which the kwamis rested was burnt to the ground, one escaped with the Miraculous Box. Cataclysm had brought that fire- but it went out of control. That Chosen hadn't the knowledge to destroy fire. And Plagg couldn't teach him in such few seconds. Plagg saw him burn.

So when Plagg went into his century slumber in his Miraculous, he vowed to never risk it again. Under no circumstance, no matter how _perfect_ the next Chosen would be. He wouldn't, he couldn't, he shouldn't teach them the Art of Destruction. That was a promise to himself and to all the kwamis- and Tikki believed him once again. She trusted him to keep his word this time. Plagg promised him that his knowledge would remain a lost skill even to the next Chosen.

He never planned he'd be given Adrien Agreste.

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 _Ooh... Drama much? Tell me your thoughts!_


	2. Cold Night

_Author's Note: Second chapter, and the plot is just about starting._

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Sleep was a blessed torture. It allowed him to relax, but would never give him peace. Fragments of centuries ago would plague him, memories of soaring the skies behind a spotted acrobat, memories that were never his. Yet, slumber was a necessity. It didn't mean Plagg had to like the dreams that came with it.

The kwami blinked slowly at the ceiling. Nothing hid from his night-vision and it barely entertained him. Curse the cruel nights that loved him.

In another century, he would have been sitting with his Chosen, talking elaborate plans of their future. And Plagg would never crush their spirits when they craved a full meal, nor when they pretended that the mud beneath their feet was lush carpets, and that the rocks beneath them were feathered pillows, though he _knew_ that it was mere dreams.

Yet, at that moment, Plagg lay with a full belly on cotton pillows that radiated heat. He even was blessed with guilty pleasures like cheese. But the night was a cruel friend, and emotional frost hung in the air.

Plagg turned to the door.

Adrien had been gone for an hour. A whole hour without the boy pulled at Plagg's concern but he forced it away. What was there to be worried about? This Chosen had it all – what the other Chosen craved – to be clothed, to be fed and to be housed.

Plagg didn't need to take this kitten under his paw. All was well.

This kitten had a house, had ample food and far too much clothes.

Then why was it so cold?

That same shiver that latched onto Plagg's tiny self – the same grip he felt when he knew his Chosen was suffering. But what could possibly be wrong? The only times Plagg knew of this pain was in the weeks without food… or when another jerk had threw a careless kick at his kitten. Or worse, when he couldn't provide food for his kitten…

And on pure reflex, Plagg jumped into the air. He hovered over the bed, ears strained and eyes alert.

 _Why won't Adrien come inside?_

The boy was standing behind the door. Plagg could sense his presence, the telltale lingering of his soft conditioner mingled with that honey soap gracing his body. The clothes he wore almost always choked Plagg with the sharp detergent. An influencing factor that made the kwami avoid hugs.

But this kitten didn't need hugs. He didn't need the small warmth that Plagg provided, nor did he need a tiny animal to drip his tears onto on winter nights. Not like the other Chosens…

Then why was it so cold?

Plagg was used to trusting his instincts. It saved his life far too many times but now he doubted its reliability. Adrien was fine… What reason he had to _not_ be fine?

But instinct never failed him before. And so Plagg rushed to the door. He stuck his head through it and found himself in the face of his Chosen. Adrien had his eyes tight and his teeth grinded out low words that Plagg didn't want to hear.

 _Familiar words…_

 _Cold words_ …

Plagg frowned deeply, and flew next to Adrien. Small droplets trickled near his eyes and a clenched fist rubbed it away.

There came that shiver again, but Plagg was confused.

Why was this kitten crying? He had food and clothes and shelter. He had people who cared for his wellbeing- his father made sure he was housed and clothed and fed. He had friends, didn't he? He had money. All the things the other kittens desired. All the needs satisfied, so why was this kitten provoking Plagg's protective nature?

Plagg may not have understood, but he couldn't stand the suffering. The kwami gave Adrien's cheek a gentle touch, but the boy stiffened.

Verdant eyes shot open when Adrien gasped. They were red and Plagg could see tiny veins crisscrossing inside. This kitten had everything he needed… didn't he?

Adrien gave a shy smile, and a deeper tinge highlighted his cheeks, "Did I wake you? Sorry about that."

Plagg's frown deepened. Why was this kitten so sad? He wasn't hungry nor cold… was he?

"You cold?"

Adrien stiffened and Plagg clamped his jaw shut. The kwami could handle the literal needs. He could go for weeks without food for the sake of his kittens. He could survive in hunger… for the sake of his kittens… But Adrien looked fine!

To know that something he couldn't see dared to hurt one of his kittens made Plagg release an involuntary hiss. Adrien winced, and shook his head. The boy's eyes widened and he replied that he was fine, then thanked Plagg for asking.

Plagg was not welcome.

"Come on Plagg. I'll put you back to bed."

Adrien walked past the kwami and waited for him to enter. Plagg remained outside. Thoughts at a thousand per minute. And it was ten thousand thoughts later that Adrien cleared his throat to gain the cat's attention.

Plagg turned to Adrien and narrowed his eyes, seeking the needed solution. But Adrien stood rigid against the door, far too softer than what Plagg liked. He contrasted, confusing Plagg.

Bright eyes that dulled and golden hair that slacked. He bore his teeth but the smile screamed of a grimace. All signs that pleaded for careful attention. Adrien had to be the most confusing of kittens. Plagg shook his head, no, Adrien had to be the most _confused_ of his kittens.

Adrien still waited for Plagg, but Plagg took his time. How long will this kitten wait? Ten thousand thoughts leaked into twenty thousand thoughts and still this golden child stood in the shadows.

"Plagg?" croaked Adrien, his voice breaking for a moment, "Are you coming in?"

No. Plagg wasn't letting Adrien invite him into the misery. Plagg raised his head and squared himself. Adrien was _his_ kitten, and he wouldn't let another one succumb to darkness. Not this golden one. Not while this golden spark still shimmered… didn't it?

"Put on a jacket. We're going out."

Plagg saw the boy's face fall when he turned away from the kwami. He murmured that his father would never let him go anywhere after curfew.

Plagg flew near to Adrien, "I am not your father."

And like that, the first barrier fell. Adrien gave a glittering smile and rushed into his room, using pure muscle memory to aid him. But he was Plagg's, and bad luck therefore stuck to his shadow.

A crash and a shout made Plagg roll his eyes. A quick, "I'm okay!" and then another muffled shout.

This kitten was stranger than his others. He had everything… But when the night beckoned him, he had nothing. But Plagg could change that. Plagg wouldn't let another kitten fall too far. He wouldn't lose another… Not this golden child…

"I'm ready Plagg! Claws…"

"No!"

Plagg cut him off with a gentle shout. He wouldn't admit it, but Adrien had begun to scare him- worry him. The same fear that accompanied the shiver. He depended on his powers far too much. To escape his reality, to be distracted.

But not this time.

Plagg spoke lowly, "Not as Chat Noir."

Adrien's smile dissolved and Plagg winced. He shouldn't be allowed to look that sad. It was a cruel beauty.

 _How is that this kitten looked so beautiful even in total misery? It was some sort of evil curse._

Adrien's eyes flickered to the floor, "I'm sorry Plagg… I keep abusing the miracul…"

"No time for that!" Plagg protected, zipping closer to the child.

 _Distraction._

Adrien jumped, "You okay Plagg?"

"Come on Garbage Man! Move it!"

Plagg pushed at Adrien's back, enough to give the boy a head-start to their window. Adrien wore his usual attire, and Plagg adjusted the collar.

"Geez. Fix up yourself. You look like trash."

Was it bad that Plagg relied on gentle verbal jabs to speak with this kitten? It was the only positive response. The only response that Adrien quipped back with clean humor.

"And don't forget the cheese! Put it in your jacket. Only one piece? Put at least ten!"

"Fine Plagg!"

Adrien rubbed his hair from his face, putting an extra piece of cheese in his pocket. He sent an annoyed look to the grinning kwami.

Plagg dashed to Adrien's bed, and tugged away a familiar blue object, "You'll need this scarf."

Adrien frowned deeply, but he fixed the scarf around his neck in smooth ease, "Plagg, are you going to tell me where we're going or…"

Plagg shook his head, "Don't ruin the fun. It's a secret!"

Adrien groaned and complained that he was tired. But Plagg knew better. The kwami saw the glimmer in the child's eyes when he announced to put more cheese. The free smile that glittered in the dark and put the extra skip in his steps.

But how long could Plagg's distraction prove effective?

And Plagg was nowhere closer to determining the true culprit of this kitten's dilemma.

And even though Adrien smiled, the night was still cold. The slick numbness within still plagued the kwami.


End file.
